Will We Ever Meet Again?
by Mighty Lion
Summary: This was written for another Tumblr challenge. It's my first songfic too!


**A/N: Written for a Tumblr challenge, set to "Somewhere in Brooklyn" by Bruno Mars. I've never ever done a songfic before, so sorry if it sucks.. :P** **Oh, this is set in 1899-1900, so it won't exactly match the lyrics. I forgot! I don't own Newsies.**

**Will We Ever Meet Again?**

_She was covered in leather and gold_

_Twenty one years old_

_I lost her in the cold_

_Its unfair, she_'_s out there_

The first time I saw her was at the train tracks. She had long, black hair, pale skin, and a cute face. I was waitin for Race, since we were gonna meet there to sell. I took a seat on the bench next to her and slung my arm around the back of the bench, facing the other direction. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her staring at me.

I turned to her, raised a brow, and asked, "Is there something about me you find worthy of staring at?"

She smiled and closed the book she had in her lap. Her voice was soft and quiet, but had an underlying strength to it. She said, "I just think you're interesting to look at. You're a challenge, I can't read you." This unknown girl squinted as if trying to see something she'd missed.

"Well, thank ya, miss. I'm not too keen on letting people read me."

I noticed she shifted to face me better and murmured, "No. I'm usually good at this. I'm very in tune with other people's feelings."

_Little miss perfect sitting at the train stop_

_Red nike high tops listening to hip-hop_

_While we were waiting started conversating_

_Before I got her name along came a train_

With a shrug of my shoulders, I replied, "This is one face you won't be able to read. Sorry to dissapoint." I smirked as her expression became even more confused.

Her grey eyes locked with mine, and a small staring contest ensued. I eyed her for a few moments, thinking, _'Who is this girl?'_ When our eye contact broke, she shifted yet again to a more comfortable position. I saw a flash of red and saw that she had small red boots that were hidden under her shirt. I remarked, "Nice shoes. Where'd you get them?"

"They were a gift from my aunt."

I listened as she explained why her aunt had given them to her, and then we started to talk about our jobs. I learned she was an intern at a library, and was learning accounting and book-keeping.

_She was covered in leather and gold_

_Twenty one years old_

_I lost her in the cold_

_Its unfair, shes out there_

_Somewhere, somewhere, somewhere in Brooklyn_

_She's somewhere, somewhere, somewhere in Brooklyn_

When I told her I was a newsie, she politely asked if she could buy a paper. With a grin, I gave her one and took the penny she offered. A few minutes later, a train could be heard in the distance, and it was coming closer. She gathered her things and stood up, saying, "It was nice meeting you." I stood after her and was about ask what her name was, but a rush of people stepped off the train and onto the platform, causing me to lose sight of her. Soon the crowd thinned out, and thankfully she hadn't gotten on the train yet. I called out as she made ready to board, "Where're you going to?"

The mystery girl smiled at me and said, "Around Brooklyn and the other boroughs."

_On the street kickin rocks circling the same block_

_Green farm flatbush checking every corner shop_

_Tappin peoples shoulders askin if they know her_

_Everyday_'_s the same back to the train_

I couldn't get her outta my mind, _'I don't even know her name..'_ Since that day, I'd started going to the tracks, whether Race was there or not, I went. It was always in the hope of seeing the girl with the grey eyes and red boots. On the days when some of the other newsies were there, I asked if they'd seen a girl with black hair, grey eyes, and red boots. No one ever saw her, not even the newsies from Queens had seen her.

_She was covered in leather and gold_

_21 years old_

_I lost her in the cold_

_Its unfair, shes out there_

_Somewhere, somewhere, somewhere in Brooklyn_

_She_'_s somewhere, somewhere, somewhere in Brooklyn_

A few weeks went by, and I still hadn't caught even a glimpse of her. Whenever I would go out and sell, I'd keep an eye out for her. There were many times when I thought I saw her, but it always turned out to be someone else. Surprisingly, I never gave up on catching sight of my mystery girl. It was always in the back of my mind, everywhere I went, I unconsciously searched for her. Most people would've given up by then, but something was just telling me that she was still in the city, still in Brooklyn.

_Oh-oh-oh-oh_

_I wonder if we_'_ll ever meet again_

_Oh-oh-oh-oh_

_I wonder we_'_ll ever meet again_

_Yeah I wonder if we_'_ll meet again_

_I hope we do somewhere in Brooklyn_

Winter came and left, spring was on its way. I saved enough money and got a better job at the newspaper office, helping fix the machines used to make the thousands of copies. Even though I was no longer a newsie, I still hung around with the same guys, and the younger kids still saw me as their leader. One warm day in March, I was walking through East Flatbush to go to a pub with old friends. I stopped at a vendor to buy a small sandwich, and stood away from the crowd to people-watch. After finishing my snack, I rejoined the crowd, but it wasn't too long until I bumped into someone a few inches shorter than me.

"Oh, excuse me sir, I'm sorry. I should've been watching where I was going." I looked down to see a girl stoop to pick a fallen basket of fruit. She cursed softly at the sight of bruised apples and oranges. I smirked and attempted to help her, but she batted my hands away and said, "It's no use taking them now, they're too bruised to be any good."

"Well then, if you're sure." I said questioningly.

The girl picked up her basket and smoothed out her dress saying, "Oh yes, it's quite fine. Thank you though."

She picked up her head and our eyes locked. I felt a jolt of electricity go through my body. _'It's her!'_ my mind shouted over and over in glee. She smiled softly and said, "It's good to see you again, stranger."

I smiled and said, "My name's Spo-er, it's Evan. Evan Conlon. But most people call me by my nickname, Spot." She inclined her head and replied, "I like Evan better, is it alright if I call you that?"

I nodded and spoke again, "Well, you know my name. But I still don't know yours."

"My name is Helen." she said with a smile.

**A/N: Riight. I'm kind of happy with this. I actually want to make it a bit longer, but I'm stopping myself from going overboard. Review if you want! :)**


End file.
